


gotta clean the grill

by deniigiq



Series: no burden is he to bear [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: 1940s Bucky, Age Regression/De-Aging, De-Serumed Steve Rogers, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 05:07:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13563480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deniigiq/pseuds/deniigiq
Summary: Sam very maturely sent a WHAT THE FUCK to the group chat so that his dire situation would be appropriately conveyed and acknowledged.(Steve and Buck lose their super-soldier serum for a day; everything is fine and Steve is a grump.)





	gotta clean the grill

**Author's Note:**

> too much serious stuff lately. my anxiety wants sickeningly sweet morning time.

The day the earth shook, every Avenger received a text from Thor of all people stating in friendly, capital letters DO NOT PANIC. Steve was not panicking. Buck definitely wasn’t either from his post on the floor between the window and the bed frame.

Sam was panicking though. Very quietly, with as much stealth as his body would physically permit. Because Steve’s head was pressed against his collar in bed and Buck’s hair wasn’t spilling over the rug and holy shit they were so skinny. That was when Sam read the text and kept himself from hysterically texting back about situational irony and tips for handling crisis situations.

He very carefully tucked an arm around Steve’s thin shoulders to try to stave off dealing with the situation until his heart rate returned to a non-lethal level. Steve snuffled into him, burying his face into Sam’s neck. His chest made a soft wheezing noise when he breathed in.

Then Buck woke up and crawled back into bed. Which set Sam’s heartrate soaring again. He froze and waited for the inevitable, but Buck was evidently still in his zombie morning state and just snuggled under the duvet and pressed the length of his back against Sam’s. He was fucking cold. Sam felt his phone buzz and reached for it as carefully as possible.

Stark had sent four question marks to the group chat and Banner had sent five exclamation points.

Sam very maturely sent a WHAT THE FUCK so that his dire situation would be appropriately conveyed and acknowledged. In his other arm, Steve decided that he wasn’t being as efficiently suffocated as he liked, and so squirmed in an attempt to fit his face into the hollow between Sam’s collarbone and clavicle. He fit perfectly there, it turned out. Gigantic supersoldier or tiny spitfire.

The knobs on Buck’s spine were digging into his own.

Sam decided that it was better late than never. He sighed, which was enough to make Steve frown in his sleep and start to wake up. He extracted his head from Sam’s neck and gave him a sleepy squint before redirecting his antipathy towards the window. Buck didn’t mind sleeping directly in the sun, even though Steve despised it, which made sense now given how _fucking cold_ he was, Jesus Christ.

Sam waited a beat, waiting for Steve to acknowledge the impending shit-show they were in. Steve, however, having evaluated the situation and found it wanting on every account, re-lodged his head into Sam’s neck and made as though he was returning to sleep. Any other day, Sam would have found that endearing and would have indulged him.

“Steve,” he said lowly, “C’mon man, I need you to wake up right now.” Steve made a noise which consisted only of vowels.

“Steven, I really need you to wake up, this is not a drill,” he tried again. Buck woke up at that and after a beat swore, which was gratifying. He flopped over and leaned over Sam’s hip, whether to see if Sam or Steve needed saving, Sam wasn’t sure. He looked so young with his short hair and shaved face that Sam’s diaphragm squeezed a little. Buck, however, was nothing if not a crisis manager. He took one look at Sam and pronounced him fit for duty and then looked at Steve, still wrapped up in Sam’s arms, and pronounced him insufferable and certainly unfit for service. He then stared at Sam in contempt. Like this shit was _his_ fault.

“Well this ain’t great,” he announced. Sam couldn’t help but laugh a little hysterically, which made Buck smile.

“No, it’s not.” Sam agreed.

“Damnit. Steve, wake up, the world’s ending.” Buck leaned over and shook Steve. Steve leveled him with a nasty half-snarl and tucked his face away again.

“Steve, so help me god, kid, wake the fuck up or—” Steve made more vowels which Sam deciphered as along the lines of “or you’ll what.”

“Pal, remember that time I asked you if the whole thing was permanent?” Steve’s groan was muffled but telling. It sounded like a drawn out ‘no.’

“Yeah, well. Surprise, surprise. Get up, someone’s probably dying somewhere,” Buck said, still leaning on Sam’s oblique. Sam reflected briefly on the fact that he looked very suave and sweet settled over his side like that.

“No one’s dying,” he said, reaching for his phone which was buzzing from new messages in the group chat. “At least, not that I’m aware of.” Thor had helpfully added NO ONE IS HURT, ALL IS WELL. WILL BE HANDLED IN ABOUT 24 HRS. PLEASE TAKE CARE TRAVELING TODAY.

Steve finally emerged from his cave, took one look down at himself and sighed. Buck chuckled a bit. Sam moved his arm out from under Steve and rolled onto his back. Buck helpfully rearranged himself so that he was laying half across Sam’s belly. Steve pressed himself into his left peck.

“So,” Buck said to the room, “What’re we supposed to do?” Sam considered it. It was a weekend, and no one was dying.

“I guess just go about things as normal?” he offered. Steve caught Sam’s arm and wrapped it around himself. Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Rogers, would you like to share your thoughts with the class?” he asked, letting Steve have the arm.

“No.”

Sam grabbed him around the middle and pulled him up onto his chest, while using his other arm to haul Buck up closer to his face. It gave him full view of Steve’s pout and Buck’s raised eyebrows.

“Did _you_ have something you wanted to share with the class, Sam?” Buck asked. Sam considered the two of them. Steve looked, if possible, even younger than Buck with his pointy chin and floppy hair. And the pout.

“We have people coming over tomorrow,” he declared. Steve groaned and squirmed higher onto Sam’s chest to reclaim his hiding place. Buck grinned like a shark.

“We need to clean the house and the yard. We’ve got to get groceries and ice-cream for the kids. We’ve gotta hang that picture, Steven, you’re the one who wanted it.” Buck crowed.

“Gotta clean the grill,” Sam offered, “And vacuum the stairs, and move the old baseboards to the side of the house.”

Steve’s “nooooooo” was muffled by Sam’s neck. Sam grinned and gave both of them a squeeze. Buck preened at the contact.

 

 


End file.
